What You Want
by Into Madness
Summary: Rachel Berry's plan for life in NY isn't going exactly as she had hoped, but on the outside, she seems to have everything she's ever wanted. When things go from bad to worse and Rachel begins to lose hope, who will be there to save her? Finchel! **ON HIATUS**
1. Chapter 1

** A/N: Tis I, LoonyLunaLovegood7, back from my lengthy (not really) hiatus from writing, and I've brought with me a new fanfic! Hoorah! **

** I had an outline for this fic just sitting around on my computer, gathering dust as it sat there unused. Well, today, the power at my house went out, I had nothing to do, and…this…happened. I'm happy I'm finally getting a chance to write it, actually.**

** This fic will start out T, but as it progresses, I might change it to M. It just depends on where it goes. Oh, and if you're a die-hard Puck/Puckleberry fan and can't tolerate even just the tiniest amount of Puck-bashing, then you probably shouldn't read this. Fair warning.**

** Disclaimer: I do not own Glee- I think that's pretty obvious. The title of this fic is from Evanescence's song, "What You Want". I don't own that either, unfortunately.**

_Chapter One_

Rachel groaned as she slid heavily into the driver's seat of her car. She was soaked from head to toe, her clothes sticking to her body awkwardly, thanks to the _completely unexpected _thunderstorm which was currently wreaking havoc on New York City. As she fumbled to get her car key out of her equally-as-soaked purse and jammed it into the ignition, she could think of one thing and one thing only: getting home.

After several failed attempts, her prehistoric silver Ford finally came to life and started slowly making its way out of the parking lot. Rachel heaved a sigh of relief. Home wasn't that far away now. Maybe she could make it without passing out and falling face-first into the steering wheel, causing a horrific crash which would probably result in her death…

_Stop being so morbid,_ she instructed herself, shaking the thought away. With one wet, slippery hand she reached over and turned the dial on the radio, hoping the familiar sound of music would help her relax a little. A soft, static-y ballad of some sort began to pour from the car's ancient speakers, and Rachel's hands automatically softened their death-grip on the wheel. Music had always had that effect on her, especially after particularly stressful events. And today had been beyond stressful.

Rehearsal had been absolutely brutal. Even though she didn't have the lead role, Rachel had tried her best every day to give 100%. But now, as she sat in her car, soaked to the bone and looking utterly pitiful, she realized just how sore and dry her throat was after hours upon hours of rigorous vocal exercises for the big group number, and just how painfully blistered her feet were after running through the complicated choreography more times than was necessary.

Bottom line? She was miserable. Her big plans for moving to NYC and automatically becoming a Broadway sensation weren't working out very well so far. But the worst part was that Rachel didn't know how to feel about it. She wasn't exactly devastated, she was just… indifferent.

_Am I supposed to feel this way?_ she had often wondered. _Maybe I should just quit. Maybe I should just go back to Lima…_

_NO!_ she had mentally screamed at herself. _This is what you've always wanted! You can't just give up- Rachel Barbra Berry is _not_ a quitter!_

She'd had this argument with herself at least once a day for while now, and, somehow, the part of her that wanted to stay had always managed to win.

So that's why she got up every morning and went to rehearsal, no matter how tired or sick she may have been. That's why she sang her heart out at the theater every day, even if she didn't have the lead role and only had one line.

She could remember back when she was in high school, when the only thing that kept her going was her dream of becoming a star. And now she realized that that was exactly what is was- a dream. Just a cruel fantasy. She had lived in New York for _seven years_- seven!- and yet she was still just as unknown in the world of Broadway as she was when she had first moved there.

Shelby, her mother, had been right- it _did_ feel like a broken promise.

These days, there were only two things that kept Rachel going.

One was coffee. Lots and lots of coffee.

And two?

Noah Puckerman.

AKA, the "badass jock" from high school that used to throw slushies in her face.

AKA, the love of Rachel Berry's life.

No one had really seen it coming, what with all the drama, all the ups and downs the pair of them had gone through over the years. And honestly, Rachel hadn't seen it coming either- after all, at the time she had been convinced that she was in love with Finn…

She winced. _Finn._

The name brought back so many memories, some good, some… not so good. One second, they were the ideal young couple, so happy and so in love. And the next, they were fighting and screaming and angry. When their relationship had ended with a messy breakup during senior year, Puck had been the one to comfort Rachel, and she had clung to him like a life raft. They had been together ever since.

Sure, tons of people had told her that getting together with Puck was a bad idea- once a jerk, always a jerk, right? But Rachel knew better. She knew that Puck really did love her and that he would never leave her or hurt her. He had changed since high school, and he was no longer that arrogant bully that threw dweebs into the dumpsters whenever he got the chance.

He had proven that when, three years ago, he had proposed to Rachel outside of their favorite restaurant. Rachel gazed down at the sparkly silver engagement ring wrapped around her finger, the memory of that night still so vivid and magical. They still weren't married yet, but that was only because of financial reasons. Once they had enough money, she knew, they would finally be able to pull off that wedding that Rachel had been planning ever since the night he had asked for her hand in marriage.

They weren't a "perfect" couple, sure, but every relationship has its flaws, Rachel had told herself. And even when she had come home several months ago to find him sleeping on the couch with a half-drunk beer in his hand, instead of at that job interview he was supposed to be at, and they had argued and screamed at each other for a solid hour, Rachel refused to leave him. Even when the aforementioned fight had ended with Puck grabbing Rachel by the throat and practically throwing her across the room, making her smash her head against the hard wall, she hadn't ever doubted that he truly loved her. When Rachel had showed up to rehearsal with hand-shaped bruises around her throat the next morning, she had responded to all the concerned questions with "I'm fine" or "it's nothing". She knew what people would think if she told the truth, if she told them what had really happened. She couldn't have her friends thinking less of Puck than they already did- she was just protecting him. But he had apologized when Rachel had gotten home that evening, and she had gladly accepted it. And, just like that, they were back to normal. It was as if the "incident", as Rachel had called it in her head, had never even happened.

Before she knew it, Rachel was pulling into the parking lot of her apartment complex. It wasn't a very nice place, but it was home, leaks and cockroaches included. She gathered her costumes and scripts in her still-wet arms and kicked open the battered car door. The petite brunette grimaced as her sore, blistered feet connected with the hard asphalt and even more rain plummeted down on her. But she powered on anyway, knowing that there were only a few short minutes before she could flop face down onto her bed, and, hopefully, never have to get up again.

She hobbled into the dimly lit lobby, waving at the doorman, who wasn't paying any attention to her in the first place, and caught the elevator at the last second. There were already two people in there- a tall, long-necked, snobby-looking woman and a similar looking little boy who Rachel guessed was her son. The woman eyed Rachel's drenched clothes disdainfully and pulled the boy closer. Rachel just rolled her eyes and hit the button that would send her up to the third floor. No one in her apartment complex had ever been very friendly. Ever.

The three stood in a slightly awkward silence for several minutes, Rachel dripping water onto the already-stained plastic-y red carpet of the elevator. It was all she could do to hold back an exasperated groan; the only thing between her and sleep was this _damn elevator._ It had always been pretty slow, but now it just seemed like the machine was doing it out of pure spite.

The elevator _finally_ stopped at her floor, and Rachel shoved her way out, making sure to flick a little extra rainwater onto the woman. She took a left and continued on down the hallway, suddenly becoming aware of how increasingly hard it was to keep her eyes open, and willed her tired feet to move faster. She sighed in relief when she reached the battered, chipped wooden door of her apartment- apartment number 212. And just beyond that ancient door was her fiancée, who, if bribed correctly, might even make her some hot chocolate to soothe her throat. Puck had been known to give into Rachel like that.

With her keys already in hand, she reached to unlock the door. In a split second, however, the ring of metal keys slipped right through her wet hand and landed with a crash onto the floor. "Damn", the brunette muttered under her breath. She looked around helplessly for a place to put down her costumes and scripts, which were getting heavier by the minute, so she could just _get those keys_ and get inside. With no other options, she set them down on the hallway floor, which looked like in hadn't been vacuumed in about ten years. _I'll have to sanitize those later_, she thought, her nose crinkled.

The twenty-five year-old bent over, one hand on her sore back, and grabbed the keys off the floor (without having to actually _touch_ the floor, thankfully). But just as she was about to straighten back up, she saw movement out the corner of her eye; turning her head, she saw a pair of sneaker-clad feet under the door. Puck's shoes- she would recognize them anywhere. _He must have heard me_. _I bet he's waiting for me right inside the door._ Rachel couldn't help but smile a little. He really was such a thoughtful person; he would make a great husband, she was sure.

But then…

Heels.

Black, shiny heels appeared out of nowhere, and were suddenly right beside the sneakers. Rachel was close enough to hear them clack on the hardwood floor- _her_ hardwood floor. There was a woman in _her _house, with _her _husband. Rachel looked up at the door, just to make she was at the right apartment. 212.

It took a moment for her mind to register what was happening.

She sprang to action, aching feet and sore throat forgotten, and unlocked the door as fast as she could. From there on, everything seemed to be going in slow motion.

Puck was standing there, just as Rachel had thought, but he wasn't alone. There was a woman pressed up against him, greedily devouring his lips. And Puck wasn't fighting it.

**A/N: Dun dun… DUN! Cliffhanger! Can anyone guess what's going to happen next? ;)**

**Anyhoo, so there's the first chapter. Kinda short, but oh well. This is just the "tester chapter", meaning that if it gets a good response and people want me to continue it, I'll write more. So leave a review and tell me what you think!**

**Bye for now,**

**LoonyLunaLovegood7**


	2. Chapter 2

** A/N: OHMYGOODNESS. PLEASE LET ME EXPLAIN.**

**I am so, SO sorry for not updating. I feel awful for leaving all those who read/reviewed hanging like that. I generally make a point to not do that, but my life has been pretty hectic lately, what with all the projects, performances, and, of course, semester exams and winter break. I offer my sincerest apologies. I promise I'll try my hardest not to let this sort of thing happen again. **

**And now that I've successfully covered my ass, I'd like to thank everyone who reviewed. All your complements really warmed my heart, as cheesy as that sounds…**

**Disclaimer: I still, after all this time, don't own Glee. But you already knew that.**

_Chapter Two_

Rachel's jaw dropped, and for the second time that evening, her keys fell from her hand. Except, this time, it wasn't because of the rainwater.

"N-Noah?" She couldn't find the words she needed. Instead, she stood there in the doorway like a deer in headlights, her mouth agape and thin brows knitted as she stared in a dazed shock at the man and woman before her. _No_, she thought. _No, no, no, no…_

Puck's eyes flew open at the sound of his fiancée's voice. Shoving the unfamiliar woman- his _lover_, apparently- away, he stared into Rachel's horrified face, just as shocked as she was. "Rach? What're you doing here?" He snapped his head around to glance at the clock mounted on the wall. He paled; she was home earlier than he thought she would be. He must have miscalculated.

"W-what is this?" Rachel asked weakly, almost pleadingly. There were no tears in her eyes, though. At least, not yet.

"I…um… this isn't…"

But Rachel didn't give him time to answer. As much as she didn't want to believe it, she knew perfectly well what was going on. "Who is_ this_?" she questioned, trying to sound severe and composed but failing miserably, as she gestured to the bleach-blonde woman standing beside Puck.

Puck swallowed and rubbed his hand over his mohawk-ed head. How could he possibly explain this without Rachel ripping his head off? Or worse, crying?

Luckily, he wouldn't have to.

"Jennifer," the woman, Jennifer, cut in. She narrowed her thickly lashed eyes at Rachel and scanned her up and down, looking for the possibility of a threat.

Rachel stared, eyes still wide as a doe's. "Wha-what are you doing here?" She knew it was a stupid question- it was painfully obvious what she was doing.

"Well, if you _must_ know" Jennifer started, wrapping her arm around Puck's shoulders. He immediately pushed it away. "I'm here because _apparently_, you aren't enough to satisfy your own fiancé. At least, that's what Puck told me." She cast a devilish grin towards Puck before turning back to Rachel and adding with disdain, "And, honestly, I can see why. You aren't much to look at, and I'm sure you're at _least_ ten times worse in bed."

If Rachel had seemed hurt before, she seemed absolutely crushed now, as the full realization of it all hit her like a ton of bricks. "How could you do this?" she asked quietly. She turned to face Puck, who still just standing there like an idiot, pale and too shocked to move. "How could you do this to _us_? After everything you said, everything…" The knot in her throat wouldn't let her finish the thought. There was a quiver in her voice now, and it was clear that it wouldn't be long before the floodgates would give in.

"Rach, baby, you know I love you…" He took a timid step closer to the brunette and reached his hand out, as if he was approaching a wild animal.

Rachel flew back. "Don't touch me!" Puck retracted his hand, afraid.

"You know, I really did used to believe you loved me. I really did, Noah. But now, I can see that it was all just a _lie_. Everything was just a _lie_…" Rachel's eyes were rapidly filling with tears, but she forced herself to not cry. She couldn't cry here, not with Puck right there. She couldn't let him see just how much he had broken her. Not ever.

"But, Rach, come on! You know I love you! Why the hell would I have moved all the way to _New York City_?"

"I don't know, Noah. Why don't you ask _Jennifer_? After all, she seems to know more about you than I do!"

"Rachel-"

"Don't," she held up her hand to stop him. "Just don't." Tears were burning in her eyes, but she wouldn't let them fall. "You've chosen your path. It's too late to go back."

In one swift movement, she yanked her precious silver engagement ring off of her finger and threw it as hard as she could at Puck, hitting him smack in the middle of the chest. "Keep it," she spat. She bent and snatched up her fallen keys, surprised she had enough sense left to get them. With one last short, downcast glance aimed at her former fiancée, she added morosely, "Have fun with Jennifer."

Rachel could hear a muffled protest from Puck as she spun around and slammed the door shut, but she didn't care. She was already gone.

She took off down the hallway, leaving her costumes and scripts by the door where she had left them. She ran past the elevator- it was too slow, and she needed to get out of the complex _fast_. Faster than fast. The dam was about to break, she could feel it, and she didn't want to even be in the same _building_ as Puck- that traitor- when it happened. She rushed to the stairs, flying past vending machines and the occasional wandering resident as she went.

As Rachel powered down the flights of stairs, she could feel her breath quickening and her mind racing with a million thoughts: _Where will I go from here? How am I supposed to get by on my own? Who can I go to?_

_ Where will I go from here…?_

She could feel the glare of the unpleasant doorman as she burst from the door leading to the stairs. She kept running, not even giving him a second thought. She ran like the wind out of the front door and into the parking lot, rain pounding down hard on her back and mist slapping her in the face. She had no idea where she had parked, but searched on anyway, finally finding the old Ford tucked away in a veiled niche of the big lot. Silently thanking God that she had been stupid and had left the car unlocked, therefore enabling her to reach shelter faster, she climbed in and shoved the key into the ignition. For once, the ancient car came to life immediately, and Rachel zoomed out of the lot, no idea whatsoever as to where she was heading.

And finally, after holding back for so long, she let the tears flow.

She just wanted to get _away_- away from Puck, away from New York, hell, away from _life_.

She knew it really wasn't a good idea for her to be driving right now, considering she could barely see anything at all for all the tears. She knew she was a hazard to herself and to other drivers on the road, but she didn't think she would mind if she died in a horrific car crash now- after all, what did she have to live for? _Nothing, I have nothing!_

Rachel drove around aimlessly and sobbed for what seemed like hours. She didn't know what time it was- the clock in the Ford had stopped working properly a long time ago- nor did she care.

After a while she finally started calming down, her cries and whimpers and sobs dying down substantially, until she had no tears left. The crying hadn't helped her throat any- it actually hurt _worse_, if anything. She didn't know where she was, either.

She wanted to go _home_.

But where was home? It wasn't at the apartment with Puck, not anymore. The car, maybe. Maybe the car _was_ her new home. She could imagine herself crammed into the dingy Ford for all of eternity, poor and lonely and sad. _No, I can't live the car._

That brought her back to that one, persistent question, the one she had been trying so hard to ignore, to push away: Where would she go? Where _could_ she go, really?

And then it dawned on her.

_No, no,_ Rachel thought as she wiped some residual moisture off of her cheek. _I… can't do that to them, they wouldn't want me…_

_But I don't have a choice, _her mind whispered back, and she knew it was true._ I have to go somewhere._

She sighed. She knew where she needed to go- where she _had_ to go.

She just hoped they would take her.

**A/N: There it is!**

**Can anyone guess where Rachel is gonna go? Everyone can probably already tell. I'm a little too predictable. Oh well. :D**

**So, yes, I'm back! Hopefully I'll be able to post some other stuff I've been working on, but I make no promises; my writing/updating schedule is sorta unreliable at the moment. I really am sorry for that.**

**Oh, and I lied. This chapter is actually shorter than the first. I really wanted to make it longer, but I felt like that was a good place to cut it off. Don't expect uber-long chapters from me, because I'm apparently unable to do that. **

**Try to ignore any spelling or grammatical mistakes. I have a tendency to leave out words, and my spellcheck completely sucks.**

**I'll try to upload chapter three ASAP. Until next time, fair readers! **

**LoonyLunaLovegood7**


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